The Funeral of Hearts
by Ravens Kiss
Summary: At the death of her husband Hermione is shrouded in grief and pain, can she find solace in the last place she would ever expect?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first Hermione/Lucius fic, I'm working on this while also writing two Hermione/Snape fanfics, so posting may be a little a slow, but hopefully I'll stay fairly regular with updates. Anyway, please read and review, let me know what you think and if Lucius is written correctly. Enjoy.

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Freezing November rain fell in icy sheets over the sullen and mournful crowd gathered in the small family graveyard. Only the sound of choked sobs and whispers of comfort broke the eerie silence that seemed to have enshrouded the gathering of people who would under any other circumstances be loud and playful. But this was no time for laughter and jokes, happiness had fled like the bright array of color beneath winter's icy grasp. Hermione stood stiff and shell-shocked as she stared unblinkingly at the grave before her, her cheeks stained with tears and her eyes rimmed in red from so many days of weeping. Harry stood beside her, a long arm encircling her slender shoulders, his own hunched with sadness and an overall sense of defeat as he tried to offer his support. Feeling another hiccupping sob break free from Hermione's tightly pursed lips, Harry tightened his embrace, giving her shoulder a comforting squeeze as he rested his chin upon her damp hair. 

"It'll be okay Hermione, it'll be okay" he whispered though his words lacked any conviction, trying to convince himself as much as her as he pressed his lips to the unruly mass of her honey-colored hair.

Nodding numbly Hermione was unable to draw her eyes away from the grave before her, her eyes firmly fixed upon the gleaming mahogany coffin as it was slowly lowered into the cold and damp earth, her one and only love finally slipping into the darkness and with it any joy she had ever had in life. Even after the coffin was out of sight and the crowd of mourners had begun to thin she stood transfixed and eerily still at the graveside, staring with unseeing eyes. A few people on their way to the allotted apparition point paused to pay their respects to the deceased's wife, but most of them after a few minutes shuffling away solemnly muttering under their breath. It was Harry who shook their hands and nodded softly, expressing his thanks for their kindness, just as it was Harry along with Albus Dumbledore who had made the arrangements for something he had prayed he would never have to do, burying his best friend.

The dull November light grew weaker as time passed quickly, yet Hermione remained unmoving, staring numbly at the small mound of earth that now covered the coffin, her cheeks and nose red from the cold though she felt nothing beyond the crushing ache that had griped her heart the moment she heard the devastating news. Harry's voice was soft yet hollow sounding as with a sigh and gentle touch he slowly began to turn Hermione away from the grave,

"Come along Hermione, I'll take you home." For a moment she resisted the movement, letting out an almost inaudible moan of protest as she fought to keep her eyes trained on the headstone that had already been placed there. Though finally she relented to Harry's soft insistence, letting him lead her slowly with one arm around her shoulder and the other tenderly supporting her hand. They began the slow trek up the hill towards the apparition point, tramping through bracken and overgrown weeds, the moisture that clung to the undergrowth soaking through their robes, chilling Harry to the core while Hermione felt nothing, she was numb to everything now.

"Mrs. Weasley" a dark and silken voice purred behind her, causing her to turn sharply on her heel, her hand instinctively reaching for the wand in her robes. "Or is it Miss Granger once more?" Lucius continued with an arch of a sleek blonde eyebrow.

"What do you want Malfoy?" Harry hissed venomously as his arm around Hermione's shoulder tightened protectively, his obvious display of gallantry eliciting a smirk of amusement and a soft chuckle from the tall blonde man standing only few away.

"Merely to offer my condolences for Miss Granger's loss" he replied smoothly, his face taking on an expression of mock sadness while his pale eyes glittered dangerously.

"My name is Mrs. Weasley" she growled through gritted teeth, using her growing anger as a barricade against the overwhelming grief that filled her to the brim, her eyes stinging with the tears she fought back. With a small smirk hanging on his pale lips Lucius inclined his head towards her, his eyes never leaving her face. Sweeping his arms wide in an apologetic gesture he purred,

"My apologies Madam" a reply that brought a snort of disbelief from Harry and a scowl to Hermione's already grief and anger twisted face. With a sharp and stiff bow and a condescending smirk Lucius let his icy gaze linger on Hermione a moment longer before straightening and with an aloof look directed at Harry turned on his heel and strode away in a mass of billowing black robes and rippling blonde hair.

"What a bastard" Harry muttered as he turned Hermione around and continued guiding her up the hill. Once they stopped he ran a shaking hand through his always unruly mop of dark hair before looking down at the petite woman sheltered against his chest. "Are you ready?" he asked softly, holding back the sigh of grief as he looked into her haunting brown eyes. She gave a slight nod, almost too small to notice as Harry wound his other arm around her, resting his chin once more in the cushion of her hair before they both disappeared with a loud _pop_.

At the bottom of the hill in the small cluster of twisted and bare branched trees stood a solitary figure, his elegant black velvet robes billowing around him, glistening with rain, appearing as so many twinkling stars in the night sky as the wan moonlight began to break through the clouds. His long silken blonde hair seemed to glow in the pale light as it whipped about his face in the wind, his pale face wearing a small smile of pleasure akin to that of a snake who had just eaten a rather large rat. Once the echoes of the disapparation pop faded away he slowly stepped away from the protective trees, gathering his robes around him as he moved through the bramble and almost knee high grass with long languid strides, finally coming to stop before the fresh grave.

The scent of freshly turned earth and rain surrounded him, though on the chill air he could detect the smell of impending snow which made him smile to himself, how he loved the smell and sight of snow, all that pure white perfection glittering like diamonds in the moonlight. Stepping up onto the mound of earth so that he stood directly above the now covered coffin he crouched down, sweeping his robes out behind him as he looked down at the polished marble headstone with a smirk, reading its epitaph with a degree of pleasure.

_Ronald Bilius Weasley_

_Beloved Son, Friend and Husband_

_You will always be in our hearts and minds_

Laying a leather clad hand upon the headstone Lucius bowed his head for a moment, closing his eyes softly as he drew in a deep breath of the freezing air, shuddering as he felt its chill spread through his chest.

"Do not worry Weasley, I will take _very_ good care of your wife now that you are gone" he purred malevolently, his voice drifted away on the cold air. Unable to hold back a small chuckle he rose slowly to his feet, brushing the rain from his trousers as he did so before reaching into his robes and withdrawing a single black rose. "Farewell Weasley, you fought valiantly, but foolishly" he said in bored tone as the rose slipped from his gloved hand to land upon the grave before he turned and casually strode towards the apparition point, soon disappearing with a loud _pop_ of his own as the first few snowflakes began to fall.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: So it has been a very long time since I updated this fic, in fact I posted the first chapter and then kinda forgot about it whilst working on some of my other fics, and I had a sudden inspiration to work on it some more tonight, so here you go. Hope everyone likes it. I'm writing this is fairly short chapters right now, but hopefully they will get longer as the story developes.

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Waving Harry away with a weak smile and a nod, saying that yes should would Owl him if she needed anything, and that yes they would meet later in the week Hermione watched as he finally turned at the gate and walked away, soon disappearing with a loud _pop_ leaving her once more alone. Solemnly she walked up the narrow gravel path to the red front door of the small and quaint cottage that she and Ron had shared for the past two years, its dark and empty windows seeming to mock her and remind her all too sharply that she was indeed utterly alone now. With a heavy sigh she crossed the threshold, stepping into the dark and cold entryway, looking briefly at the narrow staircase that led up to the second floor, the shadows seeming darker and thicker than ever before as she let the door quietly swing shut behind her, instantly plunging the small area into complete darkness. Numbly she moved further into the house, ignoring the stack of letters on the small table in the hallway, her fingers absently gliding over the polished wood as she walked past and into the kitchen. 

Bright shafts of moonlight felt through the window above the little and cluttered sink, spilling across the black and white tiled floor and the small oak table where they had eaten breakfast and dinner together every day, the plates from their last meal still sitting on the tabletop. Like a zombie she moved to stand in front of the sink, staring out into the small garden at the back of the house, watching numbly as the first few flakes of snow began to fall as she filled the sink and in a mindless daze began cleaning the dishes the Muggle way. The thoughtless and automatic act somehow easing the tension in her shoulders, creating some kind of barrier between her and the overwhelming sorrow she felt.

"Oh Ron" she whispered softly into the darkness as her hands sank into the hot soapy water. "Ron" she whimpered as she bowed her head and squeezed her eyes shut against the tears that stung her eyes and threatened to spill down her cheeks. "Why did you leave me?" she said to the empty house, the tears beginning to fall over her pale skin as she crumpled to the floor, her soapy hands gripping her hair as she curled into herself sobbing loudly, her throat hoarse and her cheeks scalding as the tears dripped from her delicate chin.

Meanwhile not so far away another was reveling in pure delight at the events that had taken place that day. Enclosed in one of the many sprawling and spacious rooms of Malfoy Manor, Lucius Malfoy reclined fluidly in one of the great wingback chairs, relaxing in the warmth that emanated from the hearth in his study, the firelight sending wildly dancing shadows skittering about the room like frolicking nymphs at play. With a snifter of brandy resting upon his knee he gazed into the flickering fire, one foot extended to rest idly upon the hearth while the warm light reflected in his diamond eyes. As far as he was concerned, it had all in all been a good and productive day, that is if one did not take into account the fact that he had to suffer through the dismal company of the remainder of the Weasley clan, though he was indeed profusely glad to see that they had not yet begun to rekindle their numbers since the final battle had managed to wipe out half of their motley crew. And of course that ever present thorn in his side, The-Boy-Who-Proved-To-Be-Damn-Near-Indestructible was present, offering his meager support to the newly widowed Miss Granger. _Now there is an intriguing woman_ he thought smugly to himself as he swirled the brandy in its glass before taking a long sip, feeling its delicious heat burning its way down his throat before spreading out as a relaxing warmth in his chest.

Indeed, he had been mildly amused to see the way in which that damn Potter boy had attempted and failed miserably to comfort Miss Granger, his futile ministrations only succeeding into pushing the woman further into misery and despair, leaving her ripe and succulent for Lucius' skilled touch. _Ah yes my dear woman, do not fret, you shall not be alone for long. Soon you shall know the company of a real man, a man who can reveal to you all the earthly delights that come from utter surrender of the body and soul. Soon my dear you shall know the exquisite torture of my touch, I will push you to the threshold of sanity and pull you back until you are begging me for release, soon you shall be mine and mine alone_ he mused as he studied the firelight reflected in the dark amber liquid as it swirled in the glass. Downing the last of the brandy he exhaled in a whistling hiss as it burnt its way down his throat and settled warmly in the pit of his stomach. Setting the now empty glass down on a near by table he gave one last stretch of his long legs before rising to his feet, wavering for a moment as the alcohol buzzed through his veins making him feel deliciously lightheaded. Pausing before the fireplace he looked up into the large portrait that hung above the white marble mantle, sneering coolly at the woman that glared down at him.

"Come now, don't look at me that way Narcissa" he drawled silkily as he flipped his snow white hair back over his shoulders. "You cannot expect me to stay alone forever my dear now that you are dead and gone. You know as well as I that you would not have even waited for the sheets cool if you were in my place" he continued smoothly in response to the woman's expression of superiority that quickly dissolved into one of scorn. "Good night my love" he crooned with a chuckle as he turned on his heel and slipped out of the room with the grace and fluidity of a great cat leaving the woman in the painting glaring at his retreating back.


End file.
